


Fire

by nameless_trash



Category: No Fandom, Original Work
Genre: Angst, Angst with a Happy Ending, Author Is Sleep Deprived, I Don't Even Know, I Wrote This Instead of Sleeping, Librarians, Reading, Short
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2016-11-27
Updated: 2016-11-27
Packaged: 2018-09-02 14:04:57
Rating: Not Rated
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 3
Words: 483
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/8670472
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/nameless_trash/pseuds/nameless_trash
Summary: It reminds us to empathise. It teaches us to. So remember this feeling as you read. And never let go of this fire that now burns bright. Remember.





	1. Dying Embers

**Author's Note:**

> My journey with reading over this past year. When will 2016 be over

There it is - the burning desire to read that slowly consumes me. Yet as I hold open the pages of another unknown book, I no longer feel the connection to the words. 

I had once felt for the characters, no matter how deeply flawed they are, or the fact that they weren't even real. I had felt their happiness, their pain, their everything. I saw the world around them through their eyes. I heard the many thoughts in their head. I walked their journey with them, every single step along the way.

Every new chapter was a spark, the lighting of a new fire, and I watched it blaze to life, revelling in it's warmth. There was nothing but pure joy and excitement at unravelling the intricate threads on the spiderweb of the book.

But now, I scramble around all over the place, trying and trying to remember who is who, trying to find that lost connection.

I'm trying to find what made me love reading.


	2. From Ashes

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> This place that held so many skies ironically caged me

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Am I the only librarian who feels this way?

Day by day, I see the neat crisp lines of untouched books, their pristine white paper a testament to their newness despite the dust that collected over them.

These are the books I've spent hours with, shelving back where they've been designated. Their weight familiar in my hands, yet names and worlds remain unknown and unexplored; After all, it's merely a job. They are nothing more than mere strangers I've worked with.

Even as I spend minutes, hours, months, walking up and down, inspecting row after row and running my fingers down their still unbroken spines; There was nothing. 

The work and effort poured into each printed letter is processed and forgotten, their forms standing stiff in their desolate homes, waiting for a passing stranger to pick them up.

This place that held so many different skies ironically caged me. Their strict, rigid forms that always stood at attention blended into their surroundings; Brave young soldiers whose tales are unheard of, living only to die overlooked and forgotten in a barren battlefield.


	3. Rekindled Flame

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> All I ask is that you remember.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Wow. You actually made it this far. Thanks and congrats

Rows upon rows of books I've never seen before beckoned me, their voices not pleading but inviting, welcoming.

It lights me ablaze with emotions. It's the childlike awe at the expanse of ideas others had put to paper. It's the giddy joy at seeing thumbed pages and worn covers, touched and handled with varying degrees of care. 

Close your eyes. Feel. This unnamed feeling. The feeling of connecting with the words. The feeling of understanding and remembering the lives that play out on yellowed pages, of listening - not hearing - listening to the voices of many.

Listen. Can you feel the essence of their lives? This warmth that blossoms in your chest is the reason why I read.

It reminds us to empathise. It teaches us to. So remember this feeling as you read. And never let go of this fire that now burns bright. Remember.


End file.
